A Lost and Lonely Killer
by Ten-Faced
Summary: /Mammon's Court Setting\ 'So what if he was a psychotic killer? He had lost his wife, and he had the money to be bailed out of jail.' Only in his last moments did General Ausdin regret his actions... General Tony Ausdin/Primrose, or Tonio/Prima


So here's one of the Evillious Setting fics I'm working on...

Rated 'T' just in case.

I'm sorry, **Awesomesaucelv8**, but it's not **The Last Revolver**. It's actually a part of **Judgment of Corruption**, although it's (gasp!) _not_ Kaito/Miku.

It's actually more of an insanity fic, with General Tony Ausdin (whom I interpret to be Tonio) and his wife, a partly made-up character named Primrose (Prima, and the name was convenient. Besides, Prim was already used.)

I got the idea as me and **Awesomesaucelv8** were chatting via Private Messaging, and I'm not sure how that works because I was thinking of Germaine Avadonia at the time, but...

So here's a hastily written fic focusing on a character not confirmed to be the Vocaloid I put him as!

So now...

**A Lost and Lonely Killer**

* * *

"Primrose!" Desperate, General Ausdin pushed the doctor and the nurse back violently, not even caring to restrain his great strength.

Despite the fact that she was bleeding away from some accident after giving birth to a stillborn child, Primrose Ausdin smiled back at her husband. "Tony," she whispered, the red of her lips paling at an alarming pace. "You came."

Tony Ausdin, general of the U.S.E Army, tried to hold back his tears. "'Course I did." He grumbled, hiding his trembling voice. "Thought I'd miss out on you, eh?"

She gave a weak chuckle, the sheen of sweat making her pale skin shine sickly. As she raised her hand, he quickly took it, the small and fragile, delicate and sweet one being engulfed by his large and calloused one.

For a moment, all felt right as the orange-haired man held the black-haired beauty's hand like he had always done.

Then….

Then her hand slipped.

Then her eyes closed.

Then her chest stopped rising to take a breath.

Then, she died.

Outside the room, the doctors jumped in fear and surprise as a heartbroken, wild and furious bellow shook the entire mansion.

-.-.-

In battle, he was a demon. He craved to kill; to bloody his hands with the ones that dared to breathe while his beloved Primrose, Prim, his _Prima Donna_, didn't, and lay in the earth.

He was jealous of the soil that held his sleeping angel.

_(For surely, after all of his sacrifices were given, she would rise once more?)_

He was tired of coming to his empty home with the empty feeling that nothing useful had been done – because his wife was still dead, despite the amount of enemies he killed – and going to his empty bed.

_(And not hearing her hearty voice boom out at his exhausted smile. That truly hurt him.)_

Soon, though, the enemy country was defeated. He couldn't kill.

Or couldn't he? His soldiers, saved by him and his careful, crafty tactics hundreds of times, would follow him to the Hellish Yard.

So he declared war on the part of the United States of Evillious that had been Lucifenia.

-.-.-

Kill. Kill. Anything to distract him from Primrose. Oh, a living human!

"Please, no! I beg of you! Plea-" His blade simply sunk into the chest of the old man, and his eyes rolled up. Another one dead.

"General!" shouted one of his lieutenants. One of the more loyal ones, the ones that had followed him once he had announced his plans. "The enemy approaches!"

Tony Ausdin looked up to face the Royall Army and sneered. Cowards.

"I'll fight." He charged them, a glorious warrior angel, Achilles in his mightiest. Untouchable.

For an hour, he slashed and managed to hold off the torrent of soldiers thrown at him.

But he was overpowered in the end, and captured.

-.-.-

"Pay me." The blue-haired judge smiled down at the prisoner coldly.

General Ausdin – no,_ Tony_ – looked into the eyes of his brother-in-law, and marveled at how his gentle, kind and caring wife had such a greedy sibling.

But he had to live to make sure he got his vengeance, didn't he? To make sure those filthy people, the treacherous race that dared to continue living when Primrose wasn't, was exterminated.

Was that the real reason? Tony didn't want to think about it. Perhaps he was too entranced by the sheer power he felt when a life was taken by his own hands.

He nodded. "How much?"

-.-.-

"Innocent." Tony raised his head high as the stunned silence gave way to howls of protest and fury.

"He deserves to die!"

"My son! What about my son!"

"We'll kill him! We'll kill him, and damn your trial!"

He kept his face blank as he was escorted out by sour-faced guards, but inside, he was cackling and dancing with joy.

-.-.-

Outside the window, he could clearly see the large mob of angry people, all of whom had lost someone they had loved.

Just like him. Only they had lost them through something that could have been avoidable. So, it was his fault.

In his last moments of life, Tony Ausdin, former general of a mighty army and a loving husband saw his mistakes, his sins that he had committed.

He saw what he had done, the curtain of rage and insanity no longer clouding his eyes, and he felt remorse.

The once-mighty and powerful general, the one that had been filled with life and laughter, now was an empty shell as he swallowed several pills. Painkillers, which would make him numb and senseless to everything, but not enough to die. He had to let the mob vent their anger, did he not?

The crowd could do to him what they pleased. Then, he would go to the Hellish Yard.

Tony Ausdin, a tall, powerful man who had lost something precious and so had gone on a psychotic murdering spree, turned to face the first wave of avengers.

No one knew, as they struck him again and again, that he was smiling, not grimacing in pain.

And that retribution, the small shard of regret, was the only thing that kept him from becoming the Vessel of Wrath.

As his soul left his mangled body, he saw his beloved wife, a forgiving smile on her face and the baby, alive and healthy in her arms.

Or perhaps that was the drugged imagination. But he died happily, or as happy as a brutally murdered man with a guilty conscience could.

* * *

You know, I'm not too happy with this, but this site needs more Prima/Tonio.

Reviewing is VERY appreciated.

Thanks for reading!

**~Ten-Faced~**


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